Second Chance
by Airhead259
Summary: Oneshot. Never in a thousand years did he expect to open his eyes again. [Twelve Shots of Summer]


_The theme "On Distant Shores" was so lovely that I couldn't pass it up, but then I realized that I had too many ideas. And that's why it took me this long to write and post this fic. I haven't written for Tsubasa in a while, and I assume that many if not all the other members of T-Sauce aren't familiar with it. But I did my best to make it as coherent as possible, even if it meant heavily trimming certain scenes in order to emphasize their emotional content. I also experimented quite a bit with my writing style, and that was fun to do. Please do let me know what you think!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own TRC or its characters._

* * *

Second Chance

Blood. Amidst a cloud of pink and white, it is all he sees. A crimson stain upon pristine white. His hand shakes as he pulls his sword from her chest, and he does not understand why. Her mouth moves and she begins to speak, even as she begins to dissolve into a sea of cherry blossom petals, not unlike the ones that already surround them. She is dying, and yet it is more like she is _disappearing_, almost ethereal. And when she finally turns to face him, something stirs within his darkened heart.

She moves to embrace him, but he cannot bring himself to wrap his arms around her fragmented form. She tells him that they are the same; that they are both nothing more than _clones_, created to serve a greater purpose. Her words are sorrowful and kind at the same time, and he refuses to accept them. She is _not _the same as him – his heart is frozen over, he feels _nothing_…

With unshed tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Sakura, or her replica, moves to brush her cheek against his, placing her lips near his ear. Her voice trembling, she whispers, "I have always lov-"

In that instant, she shatters, and a whirl of petals is all that is left behind. A single glowing petal floats towards him, and he grasps it in his hand. A shard of warmth pierces his hollow soul.

And he screams.

* * *

For the longest time, his life was a swirl of crimson. All he wished for was a chance to return the fragments of her lost soul, her memories, and he would cut down anyone who stood in his path.

But what is a soul to a dead body? He now finds himself without a purpose, without motivation. All he longs for now is death, to free himself from his meaningless existence.

And so, when he is finally struck down after betraying his creator, he feels no regret. Lying in a pool of his own blood, instead of feeling heavier, he feels almost weightless. Only then does he realize that he is beginning to disappear, much like _his_ Sakura did.

He smiles, and it is a smile full of sorrow. So they _were_ the same, after all. He only wishes that he could have heard the words that she would have spoken next, even as he begins to lose consciousness.

'_Death…this is what it feels like...'_

His voice is soft, fleeting, like a summer's breeze, as he whispers, "I'm sorry."

Then, he closes his eyes to the world.

* * *

Never in a thousand years did he expect to open his eyes again, but when he does, he finds himself standing amidst nothingness.

The first thing he notices is that he is not alone. He sees Sakura's form, floating before him in the airless space. She looks exactly the same as she did during that time, except for the fact that there is no blood gushing from a gaping wound in her chest. In fact, the wound itself has vanished. But the sorrow in her eyes is still present, and he clenches his fists at his sides, blaming himself for being the cause of it.

The third figure present with them in the void, a familiar witch with flowing hair, begins to speak. She offers them the chance to be reborn, and she asks for no payment in return. He looks down at his hands, hands soiled with the blood of the innocent, and he frowns. Her words sound too good to be true.

'_After everything that I have done, all the people I have hurt, I don't deserve a second chance.'_

He says this out loud in an attempt to justify himself, but Sakura shakes her head, refusing to accept his words. "Even so…I will bear your burden as well!" she cries, taking his hands in hers. "Just as long as I can be by your side…"

Her eyes brim with tears, and he cannot bring himself to refuse. Not when she is watching him with eyes so kind and forgiving. Eventually, he nods in acceptance, and the witch bows her head. "The choice has been made."

And as a magic circle opens up under their feet, prepared to carry them to their next life, Sakura speaks again, her voice no louder than the beat of a bird's wing. "I love you," she whispers, and he is at a loss for words.

Syaoran does not know how she could ever love someone like him; someone so broken, so impure. And yet, he cannot deny what he feels for her. He would cast away anything in order to protect her, including his humanity. At a time he would have considered it devotion or loyalty, but now, he knows the truth behind his feelings.

There is sincerity in his words when he finally says, "I love you, too."

* * *

_The scent of cherry blossoms…_

It is what leads him to her in his next life.

Hong Kong is not a city where cherry blossom trees are uncommon; they line the streets and bathe them in pink, especially during the spring months. Syaoran is well-accustomed to the sights, the smells, and the sounds of the city. And it is due to this familiarity that he wakes up one morning, sensing something unusual about the air.

The members of the Li family are well known for their ancestral ties to magic, and among various other skills, Syaoran has been trained in the art of reading auras. His aptitude for sword-fighting has carried over from his previous life, as have his memories. Memories of lies, suffering, and a promise made to the person most important to him – he retains all of them. So when a soft, pink aura materializes within the city and well within his sensory range, he has no doubt of its owner's identity.

As he prepares to leave his home, a delicate hand placed on his shoulder causes him to turn around, and he meets his mother's gaze. "The time has come, Syaoran," she tells him, her voice as calm as always, and he knows that she, too, is aware of this new, familiar presence. Li Yelan has never met the girl herself, and yet she can tell that she is the one destined for her son.

"Go," she whispers, and with a short nod, Syaoran takes off in the direction of the aura. His mother watches him leave with sad eyes, because she also knows the future that is yet to come.

"Go, and live a full life, my son."

Sakura is with her friends on a field trip to Hong Kong, when a strong force suddenly compels her to turn around. She does not know why; all she knows is that if she does not turn at that very moment, a crucial opportunity will pass her by. And so she obeys, her eyes travelling to a set of stairs – not an unusual sight within a park.

Only then does she notice the person slowly walking down the stairs and towards her, his form partially obscured by a large tree. Her hands move up to her mouth and she stands there in awe as he slowly materializes before her, a contemplative expression on his face. When his gaze finally lands on her, he appears as shocked as she is for a moment, before his lips draw into a knowing smile.

They observe each other from a distance. Sakura remains in shock, and she can feel tears forming in her eyes. Syaoran is watching her calmly, and she cannot help but wonder if he anticipated her arrival.

Neither of them knows who makes the first move, but in the next moment, they are in each other's arms. The wind picks up, and they are surrounded by a swirl of petals, but she makes no move to pull away. He tightens his hold on her in an act of desperation, almost afraid that she will disappear again if he lets go. But when they finally separate, it is clear that their meeting is no illusion.

She sees the guilt and sorrow of his past reflected in his eyes, along with relief. But more than anything, overshadowing every other emotion, the one that stands out more than any other is _love_.

And as they lean forward, touching their foreheads together in an intimate gesture, she finds the words she has been waiting to say for over a decade:

"I finally found you."


End file.
